


how much do you want it too

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crushes, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 18:58:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8296595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Keith is many things: dropout, orphan, pilot, defender of the universe, traveler in space. He’s also a human teenage boy, and even light years away from Earth, there are just some things he has to deal with as one.That doesn't make a crush on Lance any better though.





	

**Author's Note:**

> God, okay, I've had most of this written since like? August? I have tons of feelings about Keith having a crush on Lance and it kinda exploded into this.
> 
> Quick notes: it's not canon compliant since there's nothing about how S1 ended and new info in S2 in here, but I do have a couple of things about what I'd like to see in the next season (alluraasblackpaladin).
> 
> Title comes from Years & Years' [Real](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VjT4BzLTaJU)

This is what Keith Kogane knows about Lance McClain before the long-limbed chaos becomes a Pain in His Ass for the Unforeseeable Future:

He's loud. He glares at him a lot. He curses in bright colors, electric and impossible to miss: _mierda_ , fuckface, _cabron_ , shitstain, _pelo pendejo_. He's the highest ranking cargo pilot, mirroring Keith's position at the top of the fighter pilot class.

Anything else doesn't register, neither important enough to care about or remember. Most things don’t after the Garrison fucked up the Kerebos mission after all.

A rescue mission, a terrifying getaway in a giant blue cat, and the discovery that they're a part of a greater and more significant cause that the Garrison could ever dream of being later, Keith's opinion on Lance hasn't really changed much. Hell, he even tried to be nice to the guy, you're welcome Lance, but the curses are still bright, the glares are constant, and the guy can fly...just not that well.

There are a few additions, however. Lance is a pain in the butt, a thorn in the side, one of those stupid gnats that wouldn't leave Keith alone when he lived in the desert. He's a constant presence and annoyance, really infuriating and kind of disheartening. No, Keith doesn't hate Lance, but Lance sure hates Keith, but whatever, Keith doesn't really care.

Lance is annoying anyway.

\--

There's no direct contact, but Keith can sense Lance's presence approaching, warm and loud. "I have no idea what the hell the Arusians consider cuisine, but it's a nice change from space goo, right?"

"Why are you talking to me?" Keith blurts out. He recoils at the small echo, looking around at some of the Arusians who are now staring, and sure, he trusts them now, but having no fewer than twenty aliens half your size simultaneously judge you is on the much creepier side of things.

Lance seems to agree with them. "Dude, you're so weird."

"No, really."

"Fine. Pidge is being grumpy, Shiro is talking to Coran, and Allura and Hunk keep ignoring me. So," Lance gestures towards Keith's figure, "last resort."

Keith grumbles, "Wow, thanks."

"That's the spirit, buddy!" Lance loops his free arm over Keith's shoulder, guiding them towards the other side of the foyer. He talks Keith's ear off about their successful mission, his large role, and how they couldn't have done it without Lance. 

Lance ends up playing a presence in the majority of Keith’s time at the party, and in all honesty? Keith doesn’t hate it.

They talk about the Garrison, briefly, mostly shitting on Iverson and the way he spits out his insults, literally. And don't get Lance started on how town was a fucking 45 minute walk away. For Lance, it was too much of a hassle to go their every weekend to pick up his essentials from the beauty aisle in the only big box store for miles, and care package items didn't last that long. 

Later, Lance mutters that they'll work on the stupid cheer, but it's without his usual Keith bite, instead, in a gentler tone that Keith later finds out has to do when Lance used to captain his middle school cheer squad. 

Keith finds himself opening up more too. He pokes Lance's nunavill-stricken body in curiosity and pouts when he falls over. He roars in laughter at Hunk's popsicle gag, and he even converses with a couple of Arusians, yes, even the cute one with the extremely deep voice.

This is nice. It's different, odd, but nice. They've been a group for no more than a few Earth days, but Keith's spent more time around people and enjoyed it than he has in the past ten years combined.

So, naturally, things must go to shit after this revelation: Pidge wants to leave, there's an ambush, and Keith doesn't know what to do.

His stomach drops when he runs into the control room and sees Lance's unconscious body.

Keith never hated Lance. Never even disliked him. Pain in the ass? Sure. Hate is reserved for those who deserve it, like the Garrison or the Galra.

There's something so, so sobering when a boy who thrives off making others laugh and provides noise when no one else even wants it is silent. Dead silent. 

Keith doesn't continue that train of thought, watching as Shiro lifts Lance and carries him out of the room, does so way too carefully like the smallest of mistakes could break Lance in half.

Lance was supposed to teach him the cheer. They were supposed to "work on it." The two of them. And it's that thought that tightens in Keith's chest, because it felt like the first time they liked having the other around. He really wants that to continue.

\--

"Is that some Earth way of communicating with the other paladins?" Allura snaps at Keith, "Because if I am going to be perfectly honest, it doesn't seem to be working."

If Keith wasn’t so fucking angry at how the Galra managed to trick them all, he’d direct it all instead to Allura. Instead, he just resorts to pettiness, and he starts tapping his foot louder and faster, staring at her the entire time.

Allura’s glare is absolutely terrifying, ten thousand years of frustration and annoyance collected into one look, and Keith immediately ceases with a hasty, "Sorry."

They're quiet for...a while. He doesn't know how long it's been, hours at the very least, before there's a slam against the barrier and Allura's ten thousand years and a couple of hours of anger are taken out through her curled fists. 

"Shit." Keith mumbles. Allura doesn't hear, instead, slamming her fists against the barrier again and again

She screams, kicks the barrier, yells in what Keith assumes is Altean curses peppered with _quiznaks_ , and he’s never seen her so furious. He blames how contagious it is, but the more he thinks about not being able to do _anything _, Shiro and Lance injured, Hunk and Coran possibly light years away, and Pidge fending for himself -__

__With a “fuck,” and a couple of choice Japanese words that he picked up from Shiro from years of sparring and drunken run-ins with inanimate objects, Keith beats his palms against the surface, half-knocking, half-trying to break the stupid barrier down. He takes his sword and strikes it too, jumping back at the electrocution, but goes back and repeats the process._ _

__"We are going to get back in there no matter what, you hear me?”Allura swears as they slump to the floor, backs against the barrier. They’re the only ones not a part of any sort of action_ _

__Keith, master of words and verbal communication, nods._ _

____

—

Allura and Keith race in the second the shield disappears, finding the others right where they saw them last time.

Pidge gets to Shiro first, but any bother doesn't even faze Keith as he goes to Lance. He knows Shiro is strong; he’s survived the Galra before, and this is nothing compared to the first time.

His mind moves a mile a minute. They've won, Pidge saved the Castle, Shiro is alive, Lance is alive, Lance's long-range skill is awesome, Lance’s hair is mussed and there are few bits of debris snowed over his face and suit and Keith is kinda into it.

He can't feel the warmth of Lance's skin under their armor, but the way his fingers curl around Keith's hand indicate that he's still somewhat conscious. He's too weak to pull up, probably ready to pass out again any second, so Keith lowers himself so that he’s eye to eye with Lance, making sure his body doesn’t exhaust itself.

Lance smiles, "We _are_ a good team," says in earnest, and Keith smiles. He doesn’t want to let go of Lance’s hand, and a voice in the back of his head tells him it’s not just because Lance needs the support.

—

Hunk is the only one strong enough to support Shiro, does so as they walk over to the infirmary place thing. Coran had said something about pods, which made it sound much less like a place for healing and some sort of recharge station.

Lance does in fact pass out about a minute after their moment. His hand slackens in Keith's grip, and before Keith could register what was happening, Lance fell forward, forehead plopping onto Keith's lap and just sorta. Laying there.

It’s kinda awkward. He acts fast though, adjusting Lance's body so that his back is laying across Keith’s lap instead.Keith grunts and lifts Lance, an arm around his neck and his legs draped over Keith’s arm. The other hand is used to hold Lance’s shoulder, and okay, it’s kind of heavy, but Keith has benchpressed twice his weight on more than one occasion. This should be easy.

He's a little bit farther behind than the others, being the only one carrying an entire person. Lance is lithe and Keith is rather strong, but several hundred feet of cradling a person really takes its toll damn it. Okay, so maybe it’s not so easy.

Keith doesn't regret it though. Especially when he feels a hum against his shoulder and a low murmur, "Where are we?"

Keith whispers, "Shut up, we're getting you to safety. Don't ruin the moment."

"Kay…” Lance shifts his head, nuzzling in the crook of Keith’s neck.

Lance's breath is slow over Keith's armor, but underneath, Keith's heart races.

—

Keith works his ass off, sure, he didn't suddenly stop when he got booted from the Garrison mind you, but he still appreciates a good night's sleep.

Not tonight though. The day's events were too stressful and strenuous, even for him, and while he chooses to take this out on improving his skills, he skips right past the training deck and heads to Lance's cyropod. 

Keith misses Lance. How did he get here, when he didn’t remember who he was on first glance and hadn’t had a positive conversation with until very recently?

It's only because he realized that he's found a family with the Paladins and the Alteans. Yeah. Pidge's near-abandonment of them struck something in him, taught him after years of unpredictability in home and people who care, for the first time that Keith can remember.

"He's supposed to be up now, right? Right?" He yells at Coran when the older man walks into the infirmary, Hunk not too far behind.

"You're really got your pants on too tight, don't you?" Hunk laughs, but ceases immediately after Keith glares at him. Hunk's shoulders stay tightened, but his voice gets gentler. "Are you hungry? I can make you something if you're going to keep being Mr. Grumpy Paladin."

"I'm fine."

Coran does a quick check of the diagnostic whatevers, giving elaborate commentary whenever he sees fit. Most of it goes over Keith’s head, but judging from the lightness in Coran’s tone and Hunk’s smile, they must be pretty good. Lance should be okay.

Hunk sits on the ground, facing his best friend. Figuring Hunk wants him to as well, if the way he stays silent instead of telling him to get out is any indication, Keith follows suit. Unlike Hunk however, Keith isn’t that great at assessing social cues of the others around him. And Hunk’s great at it:the first and only time Keith had let out a ridiculous and outrageous, an open laugh, it was because of Hunk, mere hours ago.

Keith smiles small, if there's anyone who can lift the mood of the current situation, it's Hunk. A small part of him, deep, deep down, kinda wants to return the favor; it makes sense that Hunk is checking up on Lance too, being best friends after all, and he's probably the most worried. Keith, however, is far from best friends with the currently frozen pain in the ass.

"I thought you couldn't stand Lance." Hunk voices Keith’s inner monologue. Well, so much for feel-better talk, and damn, is Hunk that good at reading people that he can literally read minds?

Keith shrugs. "I can't, most of the time, but I don't hate him, you know, like he hates me."

"He doesn't hate you." Keith raises his eyebrows. Hunk continues, "He...is a lot more than a talkative loudmouth, even if he's like that like, 95% of the time. He's really competitive, well, _obviously_ , but the way he is around you is way different than I've seen him with anyone else."

"Oh?"

"It's a good thing. He's just too hardheaded to notice."

"Oh."

"Don't worry, once the two of you get your heads out of your asses, I'm going to fear for the rest of ours." Hunk jokes. "Because you guys would be _scary_ together, I mean, you do things without thinking, and once he gets an idea, he does not let it go until it happens. It’s like a chemical explosive reaction, both of you are in your own element, but get together, add some rapid heat, then BAM."

"I'm...not quite sure those are compliments."

Hunk shrugs, not denying the accusation.

It falls silent. This is different than the silence he had with Allura however; sure, they're both still stressed, but the cyropod is a mellow blue and Lance's face is calm and so...not-Lance. There's no smirk or cheeky show of pearly white teeth. He's never quiet either - even in sleep, he's softly snoring or murmuring. Keith knows, he unfortunately has to have the room right next to his.

"How was the Balmera?" Keith asks, already knowing the answer; Coran and Hunk gave everyone a breakdown during the group-sans-Lance briefing, but hey, it's conversation, okay?

Hunk rests his elbows on his knees and stares at Lance. "We won, right? It was kinda scary though, seeing how the Galra were treating the Balmerans. And then Shay, she's awesome, I hope we find -"

"Do you like Shay?"

Hunk's face goes bright red. "I mean, she's a very nice rock...girl! Very sweet, strong, and incredibly brave." Hunk's voice then trails off, looks out the window instead behind Lance's cyropod. "I hope she's okay."

Keith's eyes flicker back to Lance, stays there as he processes what Hunk just said about Shay. Lance is genuinely sweet, sure, Keith can admit it. He wanted to knit sweaters for the trespassing Arusians after all. Maybe he's not quite as strong, but he's not too bad in the simulators - usually it's his mouth that causes him to fuck up instead of his body. 

He really wants Lance to be okay.

"We'll get her. I can see how much you like her." Keith says, going so far as giving a small smile and leaning over so he's playfully nudging Hunk's shoulder with his own.

"No I don't! Keith! Whatever, let's just, stop talking about it, okay?” Hunk pouts.

Keith doesn’t remember going to sleep, but he wakes up before Hunk, gently removes himself from the comfortable body next to him and the very, very comfortable lavender blanket that's been draped over them. He returns to the cyropod room a few minutes later to find it empty, Hunk and the blanket gone.

—

Keith fucking hates Lance.

He wasn't sure what he was expecting when Lance woke up. Maybe a shared smile between the two when they remembered their last interaction, one of warmth and quiet approval of each other. Possibly a "thank you," for being there for him, or even a joke about how Keith was strong enough to carry Lance’s incredibly buff physique.

Figures that the first thing he does after waking up is go hit on Allura, but it kinda stings that Lance won't even acknowledge Keith or what happened between them. And even that he can let somewhat slide, but then a few hours later and he’s flirting with some pretty alien girl and _still_ won’t acknowledge Keith?

Whatever.

He can't help the smile, however, when he gets Blue back and relays the message to Lance. The idiot's not completely forgiven, however, and if Lance thinks he won't leave him there to stay chained up and moping, he’s got another thing coming.

Serves him right for forgetting their bonding moment.

Despite that, however, he volunteers, quite adamantly, to get Lance, leaving the others to deal with Nyma and Rolo. Half-revenge, half-Keith kinda wants to have some alone time with Lance.

"Cute flirting," Pidge chides in his earpiece when he lands on the Planet of Lance's Fuck Ups.

"What?" Keith bites the corner of his mouth to fight back the smile he still has on. He was joking, something he never does, but doing so with Lance feels so natural, as pleasant as those few moments he lands on the ground after flying, especially back in the desert, accompanied by nothing but the cool night breeze, blanket of stars, and the music pounding in his headphones. "That, that wasn't flirting."

Pidge laughs before he hears the blip signaling that their one-on-one conversation and any further conversation would be heard by everyone. Keith would rather not have Pidge explain what makes his and Lance's back-and-forth "flirting" to everyone else, especially coming from someone, albeit a genius, who probably just learned what the word meant a year ago.

Not that Keith can properly explain what it is either, even with about five years on Pidge, but whatever.

"God, you're an idiot.” Keith takes the keys they had gotten from Nyma and twirls them around his finger. He laughs as Lance tries to kick him, stepping just a inch away from the farthest point Lance's foot can reach. 

They keep this up for a bit, much more fun on Keith's part than Lance's, before they're finally scolded by Shiro and Allura over their comms. Keith eventually bends down to Lance and as he's unlocking his shackles, Lance says, "I'm not an idiot, I saw you checking out Rolo. So don't tell me you wouldn't have wanted to show off Red to him if he asks."

Keith's face goes warm. Lance was being defensive, sure, but he sounded annoyed too. Keith thinks. He hopes. Should he call him out for potential jealousy? It doesn't help that he holds Lance's wrist, and something so light as his fingers curled around it, his thumb on Lance's palm, makes his throat tight and adrenaline make his heartbeat race faster in a much different way than when he was flying through the asteroid belt. 

In an effort to rectify the situation and shut Lance up, he responds, "At least I didn't actually run away with him and got chained to a tree and almost lost my fucking lion."

"Hey, I at least did something about the alien I like. You've got no game."

"I have no problem chaining you back up."

"Didn't know you were into that." Lance snaps back with a toothy grin, "I'll keep that in mind."

"For what?"

"When you get some game." Lance massages his wrists and smirks at Keith. The huff of breathy laughter that Keith releases is automatic, an impulse. 

When he hops out of Red after landing in his respective hangar, Allura smiles and jokes, "For a few ticks, I was convinced that you were going to leave Lance chained up!"

That's flirting, right? Why would Allura even flirt with him, why can't it be Lance initiating, 

"Can you back off? I like boys!" Keith blurts out, half-anger and half-embarrassment. 

Allura raises an eyebrow. "Congratulations? I don't see how this pertains to our conversation however, but I can assure you that I have no romantic interest in you as you're trying to imply."

\--

It makes sense that there's not as much gunk under his fingertips in space, where dirt isn't necessarily common, but the lines under his nails are still a deep brown and Keith is hellbent on getting it out.

There's an obnoxious rap on his door, some sort of a beat to a Top 40 hit that Keith heard far too many times on the radio back at the shack, making it quite obvious who the unwanted guest is.

Unwanted as in Keith needs more time alone than surrounded by others. Unwanted as in Lance is a hurricane who'll no doubt leave a mess when he leaves in some way. Unwanted as in the thought of Lance in Keith's room, just the two of them and a small, private space, sends his brain to places he didn't even know they could go. 

As he's still considering whether or not he wants to let the annoyance in, the door betrays him and slides open. Lance's shit-eating, default grin is immediately replaced by a grimace. 

"Are you cleaning your nails with your knife?"

Keith mutters as he digs into his thumbnail, "I cut my hair with it too. Pick my teeth with it sometimes if my toothbrush is too far away."

"Dude, what the hell." Lance flops down on Keith's bed and his hands are suddenly very clammy under his gloves. He gets up immediately and rests his forearm against what wall he can reach above the hole carved out for his bed, peering down at the figure below him. 

"Did you come here just to make fun of my hygiene habits?" Keith sneers as he sheaths his knife back inside its holster.

Lance smiles, but it's not like his go-to cheese and sparkles. It's small, private, and Keith suddenly feels like the room has become a lot smaller. This isn't the public Lance of boasts and ego, and Keith is suddenly afraid.

"Look, I know I can be a pain in the butt from time to time -"

"Try the majority, but sure." 

"I'm trying to be nice to you! Stop making it so hard!"

“Fine.” Keith crosses his arms.

"I guess I can admit that I can get jealous of you sometimes. And I’ll project that. And that’s all I’m going to say on the matter, but thanks for saving my ass…on more than one occasion. Even if I’m pretty sure the first time didn’t exist."

“Our bonding moment? Of course it did!” 

Lance raises his eyebrows as he leans back on Keith’s bed, and Keith sighs. “I mean. No problem. Even though it definitely did happen."

Lance’s smile is a mixture of what he wears outside and one that belongs in such a private space. Keith ignores the tickling inside his chest as Lance gets up with that same smile, brushes down his clothes, and lightly punches Keith in the arm. “Good talk, amirite? See you later, and we’ll pretend this never happened."

Keith isn’t quite sure he even knows what did.

—

Lance is still on his bed, though they're both lacking a majority of their clothes, stripped to their underwear. Even with so little on, it’s hot - Keith pushes back his bangs, the sweat some sort of makeshift gel, before he takes his lips off of Lance’s inner thigh and mouths his way back up to his neck. He spends some time there before Lance yanks the hair on the back of his neck and their mouths meet instead. As Lance’s fingers curl over Keith’s hips, they both moan.

Lance says something Keith doesn't understand, but he laughs anyway, Lance joining right after. While Keith's laughter is soft and short, Lance's reflects his smile: bright, open, amazing. Keith moves some of Lance’s hair out of his face before kissing his temple, hoping to find a ticklish spot somewhere so he can see and hear Lance laugh like that again.

Keith wakes up to darkness and silence, void of Lance presence and laughter. His hair sticks to his skin, hot against his forehead, his temples, the back of his neck. His chest and throat hurt, and it’s hard to breathe. Keith’s too afraid to open his eyes, pressing his palms against them, both in fear of confirmation that what he dreamt actually happened, and in confirmation that it was only just that, a dream.

Shit.

—

It's calming watching Hunk sketch. It's all fine grey lines layered on top of each other, fibers overlapping to build the outline of something strong and real.

Being around Hunk in general is calming. It’s a different effect than with Pidge, whom Keith had snuck out with one night to a junkyard two planets ago. silent save only for their occasional outbursts of finding a cool hunk of metal or bitching about the Garrison. Then there were the grunts and strings of curses in five different languages as they hauled a sack of computer parts and a rusty motorbike. It was some solid bonding. 

"So I'm thinking, if we find some planet that mines a substance that has a similar composition to magnesium, I can create a magnesium alloy to create lightweight and awesome looking lacy spoked wheels.” There’s a pause for some scratches of graphite on paper, and then, “I think I can get an intricate spiderweb design, or something simple with a crapton of lines intersection. Which one do you prefer?"

"Sure." Keith swings his legs and lies down on the countertop, tucking his hands behind his head and staring at the ceiling, thinking about the way Lance blocked a chunk of space goo from hitting Keith in the face during the group’s weekly food fight earlier today. It was both brave and unfair, seeing as the goo clung to Lance’s shirt, clinging it to skin, and making the fabric nearly transparent. A beauty and terror, rolled up into a loudmouthed package.

"Castle to Keith? C'mon, this is your bike, work with me here." Hunk pauses, scanning down Keith's body before grinning. "You're thinking about someone."

Keith growls, "We're in a ship with seven total people, there aren't that many options."

"Yeah, but all of us aren't thinking about Lance....besides Lance.” Hunk pauses. “Maybe. He's probably thinking about himself too. So two people are thinking about Lance."

"What's that supposed to imply?"

Hunk uses his pencil as a baton, conducting a stupid singsong that goes a little like, "Someone's got a crush on Laaaaance."

“NO."

"You're kinda obvious, dude." Hunk belies any iota of assholery with a signature gentle Hunk Smile. It's sunshine warmth and comfort, not the scorching kind Keith is more than familiar with in the desert. This one hangs over a beach in the mid-afternoon, soft and calming. "And kinda lucky that the person you're crushing on is the only dense one in the group."

Keith briefly opens his mouth before shutting it again. Fair point, but still, "You better not tell anyone, okay?"

Like his smile, Hunk's laugh is genuine and kind instead of cruel and mocking. “There’s no point really. We all know in some way."

Keith frowns and drops his head to his knees. "Great."

They jump at the noise that enters the room. "How dare you guys hang out without me!" Lance shifts his hips as he walks inside, adjusting his position so that a sleeping Pidge on his back doesn't fall off.

Keith jolts, bit readies his Lance ammo to deflect any bit of his and Hunk’s conversation. "It's called enjoying shared silence. Not like you have any experience in the matter."

"I have plenty of experience Keith, whatever. Hunk, defend me!"

"I have a feeling you're talking about the wrong kind of experience, dude."

Lance pouts, turning to Keith. With Pidge still on his back, Keith thinks he looks a little like a turtle, and he bites his lip to fight back the laugh that wants to come out. He instead lets it form a teasing smile instead, challenging, "Go on Lance, tell me about said experience."

"Really, man?" Lance directs this at Hunk, who just grins and goes back to his sketch with a quiet hum. "So, I have this ex." Lance suddenly goes quiet, and okay, so he knows how to shut up for more than five seconds, but this type of silence is childish, meek, dare Keith even consider shy. It reminds him a little of the smile he had when he had barged into his room a while back and showed a side that only a few get to see. Knowing that he's in a group that includes Lance's best friend and a (sleeping) team member from the Garrison, well, it's nice. 

Usually, Keith could not give less than a rat's ass about Lance's romantic past, for a combination of reasons that range from 'this sounds made up' to 'kind of more than a little jealous.' Now however, Keith wants to actually hear Lance speak, if only to see what's gotten to get so shy. "Fascinating story already. Can't wait to hear about which girl it was this time."

Lance glares at Keith. "Well, _he_ was really quiet, just like you, but way less of an asshole. 

Oh. _Oh._

Keith coughs, "Doesn't really sound like your type."

"Hey, I can do quiet and sensitive, okay!" Lance shouts, and there's a sound behind him as Pidge grumbles and digs her head further into Lance's shoulder. "Lance, I swear to god, if you keep yelling, just know that I have direct access several points on the body that'll knock you right the fuck out."

Lance nervously laughs before readjusting his hold on Pidge before continuing, "Look, he just. Was nice to sit with and enjoy the quiet with. When my house got too noisy, I'd just go the few houses down to his place and we’d just lie there and watch cartoons. He was the only other person who admitted to watching them at fourteen like me."

He smiles, and adds on, "Besides, he was on the wrestling team, and in case it wasn't obvious, I'm kinda into people who could beat me up. Y'know, since it's really hard to do so and all."

Hunk smirks at Keith.

"Anyway, trip down memory lane over. So screw you Keith, I have all kinds of experience and therefore I'm awesome and I'm gonna hit the hay to recharge said awesomeness." He grunts, "Let's go, Pidge," fixing his hold on her one last time before walking off to the bedroom corridor. 

No Lance means a return to silence, but it doesn't last long as Keith whispers, "You knew...."

"Mmhmmmm." Hunk smiles again, says nothing more, going back to his sketch. "And best to have him tell you himself, you know?"

The silence from earlier is back, Keith's met with a warm bundle of stupid feelings swirling their way in his stomach.

Keith jumps down the counter to sit next to Hunk on the floor, grabbing the blueprint so it’s between the two of them. “So, back to my bike…"

\--

Crushes are stupid. He never understood why people got so...cutesy about them in his schools and later at the Garrison. Whether it be in second grade, eighth grade, or his first year at the Garrison, it was all the goddamn same thing. Giggles and sad attempts at conversation - and Keith is pretty terrible at conversation - meeting with groups of the same gender and actively avoiding the others in the same exact stupid room.

He figured he found them ridiculous mostly because girls twirling their hair around their fingers and blushing had no appeal to him, unlike the other guys who grouped together who clustered together under a hazardous cloud of hazy cheap cologne. 

Besides, he didn't really get why they kept staring at the girls. Keith preferred looking at the groups of boys, deep laughs and shaggy hair. 

This crush on Lance is anything but cutesy. It's all panicked skips of the heart and tumultuous churns in the stomach

He watches Lance flirt with attractive aliens, his chest hurting when the one out of every seven or so reciprocate. He glances every so often when he's draped over Hunk's shoulder, his hand clinging to Pidge's arm or how he uses Shiro as a headrest when he's particularly tired. 

Lance doesn't interact with Keith like this at all, and though he doesn’t think Lance hates him anymore, it kind of stings. He wishes Lance could hold onto Keith like that, or possibly more, and he hates himself for even wishing something like that.

"Dude, why the hell are you staring?"

Keith blinks, distracted from his train of thought and his unintentional staring context with Lance while they wait for the others to join them in the dining hall. "How did you get hair on your face?"

Lance laughs, scratching his stubbly jaw. "Jealous? Sorry not sorry that my genes are more awesome than yours."

"Absolutely not."

That night, Keith dreams about Lance kissing him, scratching him as he moves from lips to cheek to neck to lower.

\--

Allura gathers them in the control room, casually forgetting to mention that the alarm she rang was not actually warranted, but because she all wanted them all to gather immediately.

"You all truly are terrible at preparing so quickly in case of an emergency." She raises an eyebrow and keeps her arms crossed. It's been....a while since the five of them have found themselves defending the universe but Allura makes it sound like the accidentally let a planet blow up yesterday due to their poor punctuality.

And in true Allura form, today's training is nothing like what Keith was used to at the Garrison.

Poised in both elegance and intimidation, Allura stands with her hands on her hips and starts, "Dance -"

" _No._ "

Allura glares at Keith and Pidge for their interruption, but that's the only reaction he gets before she continues, "Dancing will help us in both socializing with allies and battling enemies. Both have much to be desired, as demonstrated on several occasions, particularly for the former."

Shiro awkwardly coughs and Hunk goes bright red. There's a plethora of disastrous moments from galas to choose from, but Keith recalls the most recent one, held in after a successful treaty drafted with the Argoreans to use their precious metals as upgraded material for non-bayard weaponry in the Galran War. Allura and the Argorean princess sat at the head table together, the latter’s golden skin and champagne dress a contrast to Allura’s silvery updo and lavender gown, while the others…were not quite so graceful.

Hunk had accidentally knocked into the princess’s younger sister during his passionate explanation about how the metallic elements on Argor differed from Earth and spilled her coppery drink all over her dress. In a panic, she grabbed onto the nearest object, Shiro’s suit jacket, and ripped off one of the sleeves. Pidge was caught stealing some of the food off of the buffet table, which she would've gotten away with had she not taken a bite of a too-spicy pastry and knocked over three trays while trying to grab the nearest pitcher of liquid to calm down the burn. 

Meanwhile, Lance had been found flirting with half of the Argorean attendees and making out with one of the silver-skinned men in the closet whose name is completely irrelevant to Keith. It didn’t bother him in the slightest, and was definitely not the reason he nearly got into a fistfight with one of the man’s friends in the middle of the atrium.

“This is gonna be _torture_." Pidge mutters, glaring at Lance as he lightly pats her on the head with a smarmy grin. 

"On your planet, maybe." Allura tinkers with the sound system, and a folksy, light song starts to play. "Lance seems to be the only one who looks excited, so I'm assuming the general enjoyment of it is uncommon."

Keith laughs, and is met with another glare, this time from Lance. 

Allure’s Altean lesson is short-lived; instead, Lance offers to show her some classical ballroom training, “All to help you teach about Earth culture, of course!"

And despite her, and everyone else’s hesitation, Lance is...really good actually. Even Allura is blatantly impressed, smiling instead of grimacing as they weave around the room. After a couple of spins, she comments, "You're fantastic, Lance."

He beams. 

Meanwhile, Keith is scowling. He wishes he could make Lance's face light up like that, and a familiar, deep resentment towards Allura comes to the surface. He feels like an ass, because Allura is awesome, Keith can easily admit, 

Keith braces himself for whatever stupid pickup line Lance is going to use this time, but instead, as he twirls her around, Lance's response is a humble, childlike, "Thanks, Allura!"

He can hear Lance's voice now: "Jealousy, thy name is Keith." Whatever.

They carry on until the song ends, and as the next one starts, an upbeat tune, Allura makes her way over to teach Pidge, and Lance finds his next victim.

"Let's salsa, partner." Lance bows at Keith, a direct echo of how he courted Allura into dancing.

Keith's answer however, is different. "Absolutely not."

"Oh stop being a baby and just admit that I'm better at you at something." Lance pulls Keith towards him, grabs his hand and places another on the center of Keith’s back.

In their short time on the ship, Lance has had at least two growth spurts, a good few inches taller than Keith now as opposed to their original inch and a half (Lance rubbed it in back then, and definitely does so now). Most of the time, it annoys Keith, because it gives Lance a chance to gloat, but this? Well, Keith’s not complaining.

"How do you know this anyway?"

"Got lots of experience. I used to do a lot of ballroom dancing." Lance switches the tempo and slows down so that it's easier for Keith to follow him. "Helps with agility and flexibility, and super easy way to meet girls." 

Girls are really the last thing Keith wants to think about when Lance's hands glide down to his waist, guiding his hips. Keith's own hands tighten on Lance's shoulders, a little too tight, causing a wince from Lance, but hey, he brought up the girls. 

Lance admits, "Salsa is my favorite because it reminds me of home the most. I always danced it at the like, two thousand quinceañeras growing up, and then a couple of years later at my sister's wedding." He switches them around so Keith is facing the window, Lance surrounded by stars and planets. 

"When the power would go out during hurricane season, I'd blast music on my speakers and salsa with my younger relatives. They're no older than like, eight, but they're way better than you, just saying."

"You're an ass, Lance."

Lance just smiles, "I like this way more though."

"What?" Keith. Does not know how to respond to this, and mostly just hopes that Lance doesn't feel how warm his hands have gotten, and are they sweaty? His palms might be too sweaty. "For real?"

"Yeah, nice to know I'm better than you at something." Lance dips Keith down, his hand pressed into the small of his back. Keith ignores the roar in his stomach and chooses instead to glare at Lance each inch that he sinks down.

“God, you really won’t let that go, won’t you."

Lance grins. “Nope! Now…spin!” His hands twist on Keith’s hips and Keith’s suddenly moving in circles, watching the room spiral around him. He feels a tug on his outstretched hand, and he’s pulled with his back flush against Lance’s chest. Thank god, because his face is definitely red for several different reasons now.

“Not bad, samurai.” Lance mocks in Keith’s ear. “But don’t let the others know I told you that."

\--

There's a light knock of knuckles against the wall and a soft, "Head to sleep, buddy. It's late."

"Says the hypocrite." Keith shuts off the simulator and turns to Shiro, wiping the sweat off his brow with his glove before accepting the glass of water. "When was the last time you got more than four hours of sleep?"

Shiro's fist tightens, fear on his part and punishment for Keith, the pressure like guilt over their hearts. Keith hates himself. "Sorry," he mutters. "I'm so sorry, Shiro."

Shiro shrugs before slumping down on one of the benches. He reaches for the bin next to him and pulls out two pouches of Altean juice stuff, places one next to the empty spot, and changes the topic, in true Shiro form, when Keith replaces the pouch for company.

"So, Lance, huh?"

Keith jolts, jumps out of his seat, and furiously shakes his head. "Oh no, we are not doing this, oh my god." Conversations with Shiro used to revolve around sagely advice about how to succeed at the Garrison and alien conspiracy theories, not romance.

Shiro laughs, and if it wasn't a sound that Keith had missed hearing more often than not, he would've smacked him. 

"What?"

"You're almost nineteen, Keith. You're allowed to get all flustered by a guy you like.

Keith groans before flopping back down next to Shiro. "How the hell do I have a crush on Lance."

"Nothing about," Shiro waves his hands around, the best way to describe it really, "is normal. Liking someone, even someone like Lance, however, is. You're a smart kid, and so is he. You guys will figure out what's best for you both, and for the team." He lightly presses his human fist against Keith's shoulder, and suddenly Shiro is barely an adult and a recent Garrison grad and teacher, and Keith is fourteen, voice newly dropped and sitting on Shiro's new desk is his new cubicle. It's one of the few times Keith remembers Shiro's grey uniform pressed to perfection without a single food stain, not a single tea-soaked ring on the plastic desktop. It’s all so far away and feels like forever ago, instead of just a handful of years, and so much more innocent.

Keith groans. “So, any wise advice?"

“Not quite sure if I can help you with that, buddy." Shiro smiles. 

"You've had crushes too, right?” Keith frowns. Seriously, of all times for Shiro to play the big brother role when it comes to crushes, and zilch?

"Of course I have.” Shiro admits.

"How do you deal with them, then?" How do I ask Lance to hold my hand, to, I don't know, go out with me, or kiss -"

"I've got it, thanks." Shiro blushes beneath his scar. “I just know you guys will figure it out. And I wasn’t kidding about going back to bed, by the way. See ya."

Keith sighs and slumps down on the bench. When he sees Shiro reach the hallway, however, the realization strikes and he yells, "Wait, who have you had a crush on?"

Shiro laughs, throwing his hand up as he leaves the room. "Goodnight, Keith."

He counts to three, but at one, he sprints and chases Shiro, "You can't just not answer!"

"Go to bed, Keith."

"That hot guy who assisted Iverson's lessons? Pidge's brother? Allura? Both?"

\--

Keith wakes up freezing and in a white bodysuit that that would never of any sort of place in his closet. It's ghostly against his skin, which already looks blue and alien enough, and it’s tight, even for his liking.

There's no one waiting for Keith when the cyropod hisses and he falls out. Face, meet floor.

He brushes himself off, recalling faint memories and a whisper in the back of his head as he rubs his eyes, but they go on a very fast journey down to his chest to the pit of his stomach when everything becomes clearer. 

It was yet another battle against the Galra, an ambush from the enemy who somehow tracked their location as they were drifting amiably through a rather quieter solar system. Shiro and Coran maintained the defense mechanisms within the castle as Allura, first to attack in Black, ordered for them to form Voltron as quickly as they could.

Right when they lined up to do so, Keith noticed Zarkon’s new second-in-command in his own ship, stupid and novice as a completely open target. He fled from the others, ignored their protests, and prepared Red’s fire blasters before he was hit with a hot purple light from the side, and everything went dark.

Keith feels a faint pain on his abdomen, unzips the bodysuit, and pulls the material forward so he can see the ends of a spiderweb of scar tissue snake up the bottom of his ribs, curling towards his back. He tries to look inside to see the rest, but it’s too dim in the room and he should go find the others.

It’s funny, because a few months ago, he’d just head straight back to his room, maybe at most update Shiro that he’s fine, but now he’s eager to catch up with Allura, Hunk, Pidge, Coran…Lance. He doesn’t know how long he’s been out, but it’s been too long since he’s last saw them.

Yeah, especially Lance.

It takes three steps out the door before he knocks into the person he wants to see most and least. Said person grins, hugs Keith tightly, and before he can process how Lance smells like spicy citrus and his embrace is so wonderfully painful that he doesn’t even remember his injury, Lance slaps Keith’s shoulder.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Huh?"

Lance seems to have not heard Keith, continuing to ramble, "I don't care if you're Mr. Cool Guy Fuck Rules Badass Man, but you can't keep doing stupid shit like that."

He crosses his arms and pouts, "Besides, I can't believe you didn't remember me cradling you in my arms."

“What?!” Keith’s eyes widen, but no, he’s been around Lance long enough that he has to be joking. If anything, Lance’s stupid smirk is enough of a giveaway. “You’re totally fucking with me."

“Dude, you make it so easy. I don’t know how I got through the past three days without it.” Lance scratches his jaw. “It’s been a long three days,” he admits.

"So it took for me to nearly die for you to find out that you'd actually kind of miss me."

Lance fingers move to scratch the back of his head, "Well, no, I'd miss you no matter what, I mean, wait -"

"Wh-what?" 

"Keith!" Hunk's voice booms from across the hall, and the next thing he knows, he's being scooped up into a warm hug. As great and as needed as it is, Keith can't help but glance down at Lance, who smiles, but ends up focusing on his nails.

Hunk sets Keith down, but makes sure to keep a hand on each of his shoulders. "Man, we were all worried sick. Especially Lance here, oh my god, I swear, I went to his room the other day, and he has all these tick marks to measure how many Earth days we've been here, right? Well, he's marked over the past few days to make them an X, and I think it's to see how long you were out -"

"HUNK.” Lance yells.

"Anyway, I'm glad you're up, especially because I finished your bike and not gonna lie, it looks uh-maze-ing.” Hunk punctuates each syllable with a wag of his fingers.

"Wait, no way, really?" Keith ignores Lance's protest about how he'd totally look cool riding it instead of Keith and beings to bolt to the hangar. He covers a couple of feet before he hears an, "Oh no you don't," and he's back in Hunk's arms...kinda. They're holding his legs to support the rest of his body that's tossed over Hunk's shoulder. Hunk adds, "It may be done, but you're not going anywhere near there until Coran says you're completely healed."

Lance starts laughing, "Hey, I wouldn't complain if I were you. You've got an awesome view of Hunk's butt, I can speak from experience."

After Hunk sets him down and runs off to get the others, Lance jabs Keith with an elbow.

"Huh?"

"Hunk's butt is great, right?"

"Oh." Keith stammers out, “Yeah, it is."

"I wonder who's is better: Shiro's or Hunk's. I mean, don't get me wrong, they’re both awesome, but -"

"Okay, this conversation is over.” Keith laughs before going inside the dining hall.

Later, Hunk corners Keith and tickles out of him that yes, _obviously_ , without a trace of sarcasm, he likes Lance's butt the best. The whole situation is very embarrassing, but not nearly as much as their conversation earlier.

\--

The handlebars are a little too wide for his liking, but Hunk managed to make them soft and manageable enough so that Keith could take off his gloves and grip the padding comfortably. The seat is perfectly adjusted for his height, and the paint gleams a gorgeous crimson, slashed with silver and black, just like Red. It’s a beauty to admire.

Then he’s met with an eyeful of ginger mustache half a foot away and the moment is over.

“What do you want?"

Coran slides his index finger across the front, mouth shaped in a tiny ‘o’ before it widens and he whispers, “Fascinating.” He squints, “You choose to travel on wheels? That’s incredibly barbaric."

“The important thing is that it goes fast.” Keith defends, “And this bike is definitely going to drive fast. Right, Hunk?"

“And fly.” Hunk brags next to him.

Pidge bounces over so that she’s facing the dashboard with Keith, pressing several buttons and allowing different screens to show up in front of him, creating a makeshift windshield. “I was able to switch out the old planet’s GPS with the data the castle has stored from its travels in the universe. Much wider, much more accurate, many more places to navigate through.” She presses a couple of more buttons and continues, "This allows you to choose from various modes of protection. Invisibility cloak, shield, kickass fire power."

There’s a bright screen in the middle with a dancing icon that looks like a donut. Pidge swats Hunk’s hand anyway, but it’s too late, and he adds, “If you press this, it’ll open up a three shelf snack compartment! I've already packed a few non-perishables, you know, just in case."

Keith can't even jab back at that. He's known what it's like to be hungry with no food and no gas in his bike, stranded with nothing but miles of sand and sky around him. “Thanks, guys.” He says, and nods to Coran too.

Family. That's the warmth in his chest swirling with the adrenaline, the softest red and the energetic lightning blue mixing. He loves it.

Keith turns to the wide expanse of land in front of him. “Well, guess there's nothing else to do but to give it a test drive, right?” He revs up the engine, adjusts his footing, and grins. After months without a joyride via motorcycle, he’s ready.

Hunk panics, “But Keith, your helm-"

Keith zooms off.

The bike drives like a dream, smooth and light. 

He feels free when he flies; it's liberating in a different kind of brilliant way, but there's something about two wheels crunching over gravel and the ground and the vibrations shooting up his legs like adrenaline. With flying, he's free to go as fast as he can, but driving has a thick line between safe and "this speed is too dangerous and the wrong angle can kill you."

He breaks that instantly.

Keith has missed this so much. 

He drives for several more minutes, decides to change things up, and pulls the lever to go into the air. The whir of wheels hiss as they recede inside the bike and the wings slide out, and Keith yells out a "FUCK YEAH," accompanied with a hollering laugh, lost in the music of the roaring engine and wind whipping his hair back as he does a flip. As much as he loves Red and being a pilot, it's things like this, the flexibility and openness, no metal walls trapping him in, that makes him feel alive.

He does several more flips in the air before the last one sweetly kisses the ground when the tires touch earth. He can hear Hunk gasp, as well as see three more figures among the trio he had left behind.

“Whoa, sick bike, man!” Lance whips the towel off the back of his neck and sprints to Keith. Probably not the best idea, even as he pulls up to the now complete group, he can see the heavy breaths Lance is taking, the slicked back hair from sweat. He’s also wearing a larger tank top, black, definitely borrowed from Shiro, and it’s much more scandalous than if he was displaying his chest fully bare. This is all sneaky peeks and hints of what is underneath, dangerously caught in the white of the motorbike’s headlight.

The jolt from the breaks that causes a sudden, dangerous stop must’ve been an error on Hunk’s part. Keith will complain later. It's easily also the explanation for his heart racing against his chest and his sudden difficulty in breathing, combined with the adrenaline rush of course. It's been a long time since he's ridden a motorbike, after all.

He wipes his own sweaty hands against his pants before crossing his arms. “Lance McClain, actually taking extra time to train, with Allura and Shiro no less. Wasn’t expecting you to be an overachiever."

"The faster to kick your ass with, my dear."

“That doesn’t make any grammatical sense.” Keith sputters out, _my dear my dear my dear_ bouncing around his stomach. Lance doesn’t need to have any indication that that’s happening.

“Your hairstyle doesn’t make any grammatical sense!"

“So did you finally admit to getting beat up by them for the hundredth time straight?” Keith changes the topic as he pulls his hair back into as high of a ponytail as it can go. It’s rarely successful, a few strands of hair falling out at the bottom, and right now doesn’t seem to be any different.

"Oh, I can admit doing so with these two over here, and I'm not complaining. Sparring with these two strengthened my belief in God in so many more ways than ten years of Catholic school have taught me." Lance clasps his hands together and raises them to the sky.

“He's actually improved a lot.” Shiro walks up and clasps a hand against Lance’s back. Lance shudders, face scrunched in pain for just a millisecond, but it melts into a grateful expression.

“Of course, there’s still a lot to be done. Just because you have a long-range weapon doesn’t mean it’s any defense for weaker hand-to-hand combat.

"Ha! Take that asshole. Now can I try your bike?"

"No! Find your own."

"This might go on for a while." Shiro laughs. Allura rests a hand on his metal arm before guiding him back to the castle. The others shrug, laugh, and follow suit, leaving Lance trying to climb onto Keith to steal his spot, and damn it, he's flexible, but he's on his lap and having all of this is way too much for the flustered boy who's spent the past few months trying to avoid this stupid crush.

"Pleaseeeeeee?" 

Keith rolls his eyes. "Fine." He jumps off, pats the seat, and just gets his hand away in time before Lance firmly plops onto the seat, leaning forward and making what Keith assumes to be engine noises with his mouth. Unfortunately for Lance, “vroom vroom” isn’t very accurate.

"This. Is so. Awesome. It can't be too much different than an airship, right? I mean, you can drive it, it can't be hard, really."

"Lance." 

"Right. Projecting defense mechanism turned off. Show me your wise ways." Lance bows, cursing when his head goes too far and hits the handlebar.

"God," Keith rolls his eyes, any rude comment that he would've made replaced by his leaning forward and lightly rubbing his thumb over the bright red spot on Lance's forehead. 

Any rude comment that Lance would've made ends up coming out as an, "Oh," as his eyes cross and he tries to look up at his injury.

"You might want to wear the helmet." Keith jabs, shoving the gear towards Lance. "Can't have you suffering any more brain damage than you already do." 

"You're such a hypocrite," Lance rolls his eyes before placing Keith's paladin helmet on his head. "I was going to do so anyway, since, you know, I'm not a death-seeking adrenaline junkie." There's an edge to his voice, and Keith remembers his recent injury. The scar on his stomach feels that much more present.

Frustrated, and never being one to enjoy being lectured by Lance of all people, Keith diverts the topic, "Look, do you want to learn how to ride me or not?" 

Lance blinks before erupting into laughter. "Sure, we can do that after if you want."

"Oh, fuck off," Keith grumbles. He makes sure Lance is sitting properly, the combination of black cloth, brown skin, and pink from the three moons over them nothing short of terrible. Keith stares. If he places his hands on Lance's waist, well, they're on Lance's very slim, very much dreamed about, waist. If he goes higher, he's touching skin, Lance's ribs, completely bare...

Then he remembers how easily and seamlessly Lance had his hands on his waist when they were dancing, and with a scrunch of eyebrows and a squinted glare, Keith places both hands on either side of Lance's waist, trying as hard as he can to avoid touching his bare skin.

Not naked, Absolutely not naked.

Keith rolls his eyes. "Stay still, okay?"

He may have left his hands on Lance a little longer than necessary, but if Lance has a problem, he doesn’t voice it. Instead, he lets Keith guide him, and when he says he’s comfortable and ready, Keith lets go, turning on the bike. The second he steps away, shouting at Lance that he can go whenever he’s ready, Lance slams down on the pedal, and makes it no more than ten feet before he screams and immediately screeches to a halt.

"What the hell? You're going to ruin the breaks!" Keith catches up, and after making sure Lance didn't induce any further damage to himself, goes to inspect under the bike.

Lance is quiet, and for a rare moment, Keith feels guilty for flipping out at his stupidity, but hears a whisper of a, “You didn’t make sure the bike was okay first."

Keith looks up. “Huh?"

“I _said_ , way to not check the bike to make sure if it was okay first. I mean, c’mon, you’d let this face break?” Lance vogues to show off his stupidly attractive mug.

“You’re so weird. Next time you want to go on the bike, I’ll just let you ride with me."

“Or ride you.” Lance laughs, but goes silent when Keith doesn’t respond.

They both nervously cough and make their way back inside, the conversation left unfinished.

—

Allura assigns the mission so that she and Lance take on the Galra head-on, while Keith, Hunk, and Pidge make their way inside the prison on Ter and rescue whoever is left of the royal family. If the former can hold the Galras off for long enough, and if the latter can get the monarchy out in time, then Shiro and Coran can shut down the internal Galran circuits via Pidge Hack and the planet of Ter will be saved from lifetimes of Galran takeover.

Things are going well, but somehow, Keith finds himself hiding behind a rock, separated from Hunk and Pidge while they figure out how to unlock the high security prison gates.

"Nice running into you, my man!" Keith groans and hits his head against the rock behind him. Lance pouts, "Oh c'mon, admit you've missed me.” He takes off his helmet and brushes his hair back, wiping away any sweat with his glove.

"Not when you can blow our cover!" Keith hisses back. “What happened to Allura?"

“Oh,” Lance waves his hand, “She’s totally got this. You know how much she hates the Galra, and she already knocked out five ships to my one before she told me to ‘help the others who are taking far too long.’” His impression of Allura has really gotten better over time. 

The Galra seem to think so as well, a boom of a voice echoing within the chamber, “Princess, Black Paladin…whatever title you have now. We can hear you. Surrender now."

A couple of low level Galran soldiers? Piece of space goo. It’s a shared thought between the two of them, who look at each other, nod, and smile.

“You go join Hunk and Pidge, I’ll take on these losers. Got it?” 

“Still can’t believe I’ve been taking orders from you, but okay.” Keith agrees.

Right before Lance plops his helmet back on, however, Keith surges forward, closes his eyes, and presses his lips against his. 

He doesn't know what he's doing: he doesn't know what brought this over him, much less so how to do it. It's quick, harsh, and he thinks he might have missed Lance's mouth and has caught part of his prickly cheek, but he’s not complaining about that either.

He leaves Lance like that, face warm and not looking back as he rushes back to his half of the battle.

\--

Here's the thing about being impulsive: that delayed moment when you realize the stupid shit you've done is terrible. Any sort of logical judgment that should have occurred prior to an event doesn't develop until minutes, seconds, hell, mostly the half second after said stupid shit happens.

Lance doesn't act any different than before when the group is together. He's boisterous and goofy, but with the new layer of composure and maturity that Keith, and everyone else, has noticed for sometime now. He even locks eyes with Keith when asking him how his part of the mission went, nodding professionally when Keith briefs him.

It's when they're the last two in the room however, that things change. It doesn't last very long; Hunk leaves the room, the door slides shut, and Keith moves to say something to Lance, Lance runs the other way.

“Wait, Hunk!

And it keeps happening. Lance always makes sure that someone else is in the room to keep up his usual personal. Even when they are alone for a few brief moments, he goes quiet, unLance, and then bolts away.

If this was any other situation, Keith would run up to Lance, grab his shirt, and ask him why the hell he's staring. He’s not quite sure that’s what he wants to do if he grabs Lance’s shirt however.

But this is still Keith, and he reaches his boiling point rather quickly. He knocks on Lance’s door using Hunk’s signature knock for Lance, their handshake where the other hand is the door, and when Lance goes, “Come in, dude!” his face immediately drops when Keith enters.

“Great, that’s exactly the face I wanted to see you make when you saw me.” Keith mutters. 

“Keith! Buddy! I’m...kinda busy.” Lance looks around the room, knowing this is a lie, because the comic book in front of him on his bed says otherwise.

“Do you hate me or not?” Keith cuts in. 

“We’ve covered this, of course I don’t. Remember, deep seated jealousy issues, projecting, blah blah blah.”

“Lance.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “Duh, of course not. I mean, who wouldn’t want to kiss me!”

“ _Lance._ ”

"Look, I wanted to make the first move! I wanted to kiss you first!" He finally admits.

"Are you seriously still treating this like a - wait, what? You like me?”

“Okay, somehow, I have no idea why or how, along the way, I realized I liked arguing with you. And I realized that I didn’t want to use my amazing pick-up lines on you, because one, you’re my…friend.” Keith widens his eyes, and even just that word sends butterflies around his stomach, but lets Lance continue.

“And also, because I knew in the small percentage that you felt the same way, I wanted to do something that could actually, I don't know, work.” Lance sheepishly smiles, rubs the back of his head. “Besides, arguing is a way more fun of flirting to be honest.

“Look, I was scared of messing things up, and you’re kinda scary. And then you kissed me, and I started thinking about it more, you know, mostly how I was supposed to make the first move and you beat me, yet again, but. Yeah. I like you, Keith, and you obviously like me, with good rea-”

Keith kisses Lance, presses him against the bed, pushes him on and straddles his lap, kissing him deeper.

Lance pulls away with a groan, but it's less the sexy kind Keith's heard from his roommates and foster siblings when they think everyone's asleep, more so. “Oh c’mon!"

“Oh right, you wanted to kiss me first, right?” Keith feels his face go warm.

“Duh, what was that point of that speech if I couldn’t go through with it!"

Keith smirks, and kisses him again, and again, and again.

“Dude!” Lance complains, but reciprocates in earnest.

\--

Several ticks, moments, hours, later, as they’re adjusting themselves to go for breakfast, ready to open the door, Lance grabs Keith’s arm, pulls him forward, and plants a quick kiss to his lips.

“Okay, now we can start dating.” Lance moves his hand down to twine his fingers with Keith’s, and Keith can only remark with a smile, “God, you’re an idiot."

“But I’m _your_ idiot."

Keith can’t fight the grin on his face at those words, and doesn’t deny a thing.

\--

Pidge catches them that night. In retrospect, neither Lance nor Keith are very good at being subtle, but c'mon, everyone else was already asleep, okay?

He doesn’t even know who’s idea it was, and it doesn’t really matter, because they’re running down the halls of the castle, only doused in the natural light the stars give off and eventually the dim lights of the hangar. They rock-paper-scissored so that they can break out Red and go for a ride, just the two of them, especially since there was supposedly a habitable planet with pink sands and purple ponds nearby, even though there was no trace of livable beings.

Then Lance says something stupid about how they should be taking a joyride in Blue instead, Keith retorts, the exchange gets louder, but it comes to a halt when Lance stops and blinks at Keith.

“What?”

“You just. Look really nice.” A sheepish smile slips out. “I mean, not just now, but like, in general, and I really like you, and I hate that you’re reducing me to this because fuck, you liked me first which I _totally_ get, but I can’t bel

“Lance?”

“Huh?”

“Shut up.”

Words cease when they both move forward and start kissing instead.

“I really don’t get the point in talking when we could be doing this instead.” Keith murmurs mid-makeout.

“Preaching to the choir, my man.” Lance laughs in response.

“Choir?"

“Duh, me and Junio-“ Keith tugs Lance’s shirt so that the former’s back hits the wall and kisses him as hard as he can.

The worst part is that Pidge catches them ten minutes after Lance’s hands leave the confines between Keith’s chest and his shirt, Keith’s fingers twisting in Lance’s belt loops, one or two rebelling and tracing any bare skin they can find on Lance’s waist. Which, yeah, would've been really bad, but now Lance holding Keith's hands, thumb lightly rubbing over the back of Keith’s glove, and they’re just looking at each other. Okay, yeah, it’s a little gross.

"Ew. Finally, but ew."

They both break, immediately defensive.

"Wait!” 

“Don't tell anyone!"

"What, why not? Are you ashamed? You didn’t seem to think so like five minutes ago."

“Oh shut up, Lance.”

“Make me.”

Pidge leaves them be, walks away, tipping her head back and barking a laugh before she cups her hands around her mouth and yells, "GUESS WHICH TWO FINALLY GOT THEIR SHIT TOGETHER?" Then she breaks into a run, repeating the phrase until she’s no more than a tinny voice in the background.

Lance and Keith argue for a few more minutes, and Keith doesn’t know how or when it happens, but who gives a shit, because kissing is awesome.

That doesn't last too long either.

“Awwwwww! You guys are so cute!”

“Earth customs are so bizarre. Mouths on mouths? Don’t you eat from them? What next, mouths where you dispose your excrements?”

"Oh come on!" Lance buries his face in Keith’s shoulder, and Keith can’t help but smile, playing with Lance’s hair and tries his best not to run over to the others and tell them to get the fuck out.

“Hey,” Keith whispers when they eventually do, “I wouldn’t mind putting my mouth where you dispose your excrement.”

Lance fakes a retching noise, adding “I can’t believe you just killed the moment.” He laughs into Keith’s neck. 

“Pretty sure Coran did when he said that.”

“Oh my god!” Lance leans back, hands on Keith’s shoulders for just a second, then envelopes him in a hug, “You made a joke! I thought you were serious! My influence is amazing, wow, I’m an awesome boyfriend.”

Despite that last word, Keith grimaces, “I think that just killed the moment.”

It’s not a real first date like they planned, but Keith doesn’t mind this. Sitting down under Red and talking? Not bad.

\--

Keith loves Lance. A lot. And with a surge in his stomach, he realizes that he has loved him, even before they got together and any time he spent talking or thinking about Lance was frustration, annoyance, and longing. They’ve only been together for a few weeks, max, and Keith isn’t sure if he’s ready to say it, but the feeling is still there.

Lance is becoming a great leader, commanding him and the others with Allura on each battle with the Galra. Keith looks on fondly, cutting in most of the time with critique, sure, because Lance, but he’s still proud.

And Hunk is right: they make an amazing duo. Their record for Galran takedown is forty ships during an ambush, and even Allura admits from time to time that as a unit, all of them are improving vastly.

They're not exactly normal young adults, what with defending the universe and having five robotic lions form a demigod and everything. 

But when they're alone, away from magical mechanical lions with alien technology, away from fighting purple furry evil beings, they’re just a teenage couple.

It's stuff out of those stupid movies and tv shows Keith would catch on occasion and hear his female classmates wish for, but Keith kinda understands it now. It’s the handholding underneath the dining table, or Lance’s arm around his shoulder at any given moment, as naturally there as the gloves on his hands. It’s the way Lance smiles whenever he makes Keith laugh, no matter how much more frequent it’s become, and how Keith making more casual conversation on new planets, Lance on his arm beaming.

"Ready to kick some Galra ass?" Lance slaps his ass as Allura and Shiro finish giving out their assignments.

Keith smiles, “Ready to kick more than you.”

“Oh, it’s on.” Lance jogs backwards, leading the way as Keith makes his way to his hangar. “Don’t be mopey on our date after then when I do better than you.”

“You suck.” Keith rolls his eyes.

“You love it.” Lance kisses his cheek before breaking off into a run towards Blue’s hangar. “See you on the battlefield...sky...thing!” He yells.

Hey, Keith can't have one without the other, okay? And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a fic that I've been writing from Lance's POV that's more on the introspective side but technically includes some of the events from here. Help.


End file.
